Comfort in the waiting room
by mermaidNZ
Summary: After two years as partners and friends, it's no secret that Steve and Danny care about each other. But when Grace undergoes emergency surgery, Danny is stunned to discover just how deep those feelings run. - Oneshot fic, spoilers to 2x15, happy ending!


**Rating / Warnings:** PG-13 for mild sexual content. Contains non-graphic references to medical procedures performed on a child.

**Spoilers:** Up to 2x15, 'Mai Ka Wa Kahiko' – it's set six months after that episode, and disregards all subsequent canonical events.

**Author's notes:** This is a standalone one-shot story, originally written as comment!fic for dante_s_hell's "hurt/comfort & schmoop prompt-fest" over on LJ. The title is from the Death Cab for Cutie song, 'What Sarah Said'.

Please note: I didn't do my usual exhaustive research for this fic, so it's probably quite inaccurate on the medical front.

* * *

><p>"It's appendicitis," the ER doctor tells Danny and Rachel. "She'll need surgery right away."<p>

"Of course," Rachel says faintly. She reaches for the consent form and then stops, glancing at Danny. He can't say anything, too many words swirling in his head, but he nods at her to go ahead and sign.

Rachel stays with the doctor, asking further questions, while Danny turns back to the curtained-off cubicle where their ten-year-old daughter is lying.

Stan is sitting by Grace's bedside, holding her hand. Once, this sight would have evoked a kind of quiet – or sometimes not so quiet – resentment in Danny. But six months ago, the guy let Danny shoot him to save Grace. And since then, Danny's been better able to accept Stan as an important part of her life.

"Hey, monkey," he says, taking her other hand.

Grace turns shadowed, tearful eyes towards him. "It _hurts_, Danno."

Danny swallows hard, trying to keep his voice even and reassuring. "I know, baby, I know. But the doctors are gonna make you feel a whole lot better, real soon."

Once Grace has been wheeled into the OR, Rachel settles down in one corner of the small waiting room with Stan, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder. Charlie is asleep in his carry cot at their feet, blissfully unaware of what's happening to his big sister.

"Come sit down with us," Rachel says to Danny, but he can't sit still right now...can't be part of their perfect little nuclear family, either.

He knows they're not perfect, of course. Hell, Danny himself is partly to blame for the marital problems Rachel and Stan have suffered. But they're a pretty solid unit these days, and he's yesterday's news.

It's almost midnight now, and Danny's been awake since dawn. The body of a state senator had been found washed up on Waikiki Beach, naked and bruised, with ligature marks around his neck. A long and stressful day ensued, with Five-0 under extra political and media pressure to wrap up a complex case with few solid leads.

And things got worse when Rachel called, telling Danny that she was taking their daughter to the doctor. The school nurse had contacted Rachel at lunch, saying Grace was complaining of abdominal pain and nausea. By late afternoon, she'd started running a fever too.

Danny decided not to share his worry with his teammates, at that point, figuring they had enough on their plate already: Steve and Kono were interrogating Senator Kalili's chief aide, while Chin was trying to crack the unusually strong encryption on the vic's laptop. Anyway, there was every chance that Grace just had the stomach flu.

He got home around six, wiped out and looking forward to a quiet night. Danny was three mouthfuls into his leftover Chinese take-out when Rachel called again, her voice strained: the doctor suspected appendicitis, and was sending Grace to hospital for tests. Danny dropped his fork, grabbed his keys and phone, and ran out the door to meet them there.

And now, after poor Gracie has endured all kinds of diagnostic procedures and had her belly prodded by half the staff in the ER, she's under general anesthetic and being operated on by a surgeon who looks ten years younger than Danny. He just hopes that the baby-faced Dr. Francis is a goddamn medical prodigy, fully deserving of every letter after his name, because Danny couldn't bear it if...if this day got any worse.

Danny paces for a while, then flips through a copy of _Newsweek_ from a year ago. This is Hawaii's top hospital, offering the best care Stan's gold-plated insurance can buy, and yet the magazines are still outdated.

Maybe it's one of the universal requirements for waiting rooms, Danny thinks, throwing the magazine back onto the pile and standing up to go look out the window. He likes Honolulu better at night: the array of bright lights can let Danny believe he's someplace else.

His stomach growls loudly, and Rachel looks up from where she's curled against Stan. "Danny, when did you last eat something?"

"I was just starting on dinner when you called the second time."

"There's an all-night cafeteria on the first floor," she tells him. "I whiled away some hours down there when Stan was in here last year."

Danny can't help glancing at Stan when she says this…the unspoken ending to that sentence is, 'after you put a bullet in his shoulder'. But Stan just looks back at him, no anger or judgment in his expression, and says, "We'll let you know the minute there's any news."

"Yeah, okay," Danny concedes, and heads for the elevator.

Down in the cafeteria, he gets a plate of lasagna; it's dried-out and over-salted, but still counts as comfort food. He pours himself a big cup of coffee, too, because he knows he won't be sleeping anyway.

Tomorrow's going to be a tough day for Five-0, what with pounding the pavements, navigating the corridors of power, and waiting for test results on their dead state senator. Danny hates to leave his team short-handed, but Grace is more important.

Steve goes to sleep earlier than Danny does, seeing as he habitually rises at dawn to go swimming or running. It's close to 12.30am now, and he's probably dreaming about lobbing grenades at the TV reporters who dogged his steps all day. So instead of calling or texting him, Danny carefully taps out an email on his phone:

_Hey Steve,_

_Grace is in the hosp. and I have to be here for her. Prob. won't make it to work today, sorry. Look at Sen. Kalili's wife again, cos I think she's hiding something._

_D._

* * *

><p>Message sent, Danny goes back to drinking his crappy coffee. He's just about to skim-read yesterday's paper, scattered in sections across a neighboring table, when his phone rings. He assumes it's Rachel or Stan, but is surprised to see Steve's face appear on the screen.<p>

Before he can say anything, Steve demands, "Danny, what's going on? What's wrong with Grace?"

Danny feels sorry for scaring Steve, and yet pleased that his partner and best friend cares so much about his daughter. This is hardly news – just look at how hard Steve worked to find Grace when that asshole Rick took her. Still, it's reassuring right now.

"She has appendicitis," he tells Steve, "and they've just taken her into the OR. The surgeon said it was a totally routine procedure, and nothing to worry about, but..."

"Yeah, I know: the doctors do these operations all the time, but it only happens to your kid once."

"Spoken like a parent," Danny says, surprised that Steve understands so well. He sits back in his hard plastic chair, stretching his legs out. The caffeine must be kicking in, because he's already feeling a little better.

"Actually, I remember my mom explaining it to me when Mary had her tonsils taken out." There are rustling sounds in the background, like Steve's moving around as he talks. "I was twelve years old, and I was sitting with her in the waiting room."

"Where was your dad?" Danny asks.

"I think he was in the middle of a big case, and couldn't get time off. Anyway, I was a pretty easygoing kid, so I took the surgeon's reassurances at face value and didn't get why Mom was so nervous. She told me that parents just worry a lot about their children when they're sick or injured, no matter how common the problem or how straightforward the solution. 'The flipside of loving someone is hurting when they're in pain', she said, and that's always stuck with me."

Danny clears his throat. "Yeah, that sounds about right. She was a smart lady, your mom."

Steve rarely talks about his mother, so Danny takes this memory and stores it away. It saddens him to think of that easygoing boy, and what was to happen to him and his family just a few years later.

Muffled thudding noises suggest that Steve is heading downstairs. Danny finds himself mentally counting along, anticipating the squeaky second-from-bottom step before Steve lands on it. He only stayed at the house for a month, last year, but apparently its idiosyncrasies are imprinted on his subconscious.

Then Danny hears a familiar sequence of beeps. It's the sound Steve's house alarm makes when it's being set, and it's always followed by – there it is – the front door slamming.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm coming to the hospital," Steve says, sounding surprised that Danny even has to ask.

"That's very sweet and all, babe, but today was intense and tomorrow won't be any easier. You should probably rest up while you can."

"I already got a couple hours' sleep, and that'll keep me going," Steve argues, as the truck engine roars to life. "And you've seen me work for days just on power-naps, so why are you worrying now?"

Danny sighs. "Because in those instances, you were pulling all-nighters to catch serial killers and terrorists...threats which constituted an acceptable reason to go without sleep. But sitting in a waiting room while Grace is in surgery is my job, not yours."

"We're partners, right? So we do the hard jobs together." Before Danny can come up with any kind of answer to that, Steve adds, "I will concede that there's a flaw in my plan, though."

Only rarely does Danny get to hear Steve admit to being wrong, so he can't help perking up a little in anticipation.

But Steve just says, "I forgot to ask which hospital you're at."

Danny has learned many things during his two-year stint with Five-0, including how to recognize when arguing with Steve is utterly pointless. This is one of those times, apparently. Normally he'd go right ahead and argue anyway, but tonight he's too tired...and yeah, okay, too grateful for the unexpected show of support.

So he gives Steve the name of the hospital and what floor they're on, and tells him not to break the speed limit en route.

It's been hours since Rachel and Stan ate, so Danny picks up a selection of snacks and bottled water to take back upstairs with him. He even gets some fresh fruit, choosing the nicest-looking specimens because he knows how fussy Steve is.

In the waiting room, he finds Stan dozing and Rachel feeding Charlie. She must be exhausted, too, but her head snaps up as Danny walks in.

"No news," she says quietly. "Dr. Francis said the operation would take at least an hour."

He nods, laying the food and drinks on the table within her reach. "Hey, just an FYI: Steve has decided that he needs to be here, too. He's on his way."

Danny half-expects Rachel to object, even though she and Steve are on perfectly good terms. Instead, she says, "He cares a great deal for Grace, and for you."

"Honorary uncle and best friend, yeah," Danny says as he sits down opposite her. "It kinda goes with the territory."

"I don't think so," she replies slowly. "Not to this extent. Steve has a truly remarkable level of empathy for a man who served in the military for so long, but I suspect it comes out most strongly around you."

Feeling ill-equipped for this conversation, Danny can only blink at her.

"Maybe you don't see the way he looks at you, Danny, but I do. I just didn't want to interfere, because God knows I haven't the right anymore."

He holds up a hand to object; Rachel barrels on regardless.

"But if Steve's volunteering to drive to hospital in the middle of the night, just to sit with you and comfort you, then I think you should consider what that might mean."

Danny leans back and blows out a breath, staring at the ceiling.

It's true that Danny's last partner at Newark PD probably wouldn't have made such a selfless gesture, even after they'd worked together for five years. Yet Danny considered Carlos a very close friend, and Grace called him 'Uncle' too.

And then there's the things Danny has done for Steve, including the trip to North Korea that Rachel still doesn't know about. He doubts he would have taken that kind of insane risk for Carlos, or for any of his previous colleagues.

So yeah, maybe Danny and Steve have gone way beyond the usual definition of partnership. But what Rachel is implying is...something else entirely.

Finally, he says, "Even if Steve does have, you know, _feelings_ for me – and I'm not saying I buy your theory, Rach – I don't swing that way."

"I know you never have before," she says, gaze steady on him. "But could you, for the right man?"

Danny opens his mouth and then shuts it again, all his words caught in a logjam as his mind floods with new and unexpected images.

Down the corridor, the elevator pings and the doors slide open.

"Just think about it," Rachel suggests, and turns back to Charlie as Steve walks into the room.

* * *

><p>It looks like Steve jumped out of bed and just threw on whatever was within reach: an old Navy SEALs T-shirt, faded jeans that fit like a second skin, and flip-flops. His jaw is dark with stubble, his hair is sticking up in front, and there's a faint pillow crease on his cheek. And yet the sight of him almost takes Danny's breath away.<p>

Danny knows Steve is a ridiculously handsome guy, of course...he's always known that, from the moment they first pointed their guns at each other. But with Rachel's words still ringing in his ears, Danny sees his partner with new eyes.

Steve stops in front of Rachel first, murmuring something sympathetic. She gives him a shaky smile in return.

Then Steve crosses the room, and sits down beside Danny. Though it's a sofa easily big enough for three people, he positions himself close enough that his right knee is touching Danny's left. Steve usually does this kind of thing, breaching his personal space bubble with such ease that it might as well not exist.

And how has Danny never wondered _why_, before – why does Steve do it, and why does Danny let him?

Once he's settled, Steve turns to Danny and says, "Hey, how are you holding up?"

He shrugs helplessly. "I hate waiting. My mom always said I was born prematurely because I was too impatient to hold on until my due date."

"That explains a lot, yeah," Steve says, deadpan. "So do you want quiet company, here, or something to take your mind off Grace?"

"I'd be surprised if you could distract me right now. But hey, feel free to give it a shot."

Rachel clears her throat. "I'm just going to the ladies' room to change Charlie; come get me if there's any news."

Danny nods, and she heads off down the corridor.

"So why do you suspect Senator Kalili's wife?" Steve asks. And huh, turns out Danny can be distracted after all. He launches into an explanation of his hunch, Steve plays devil's advocate in her defense...and then they're _off_, batting the case back and forth between them and examining it from all angles.

It's a good thing this is a private waiting room, and that Stan's still napping. With such a high-profile investigation, they can't afford any leaks. Danny keeps his voice down, just to be safe, and Steve follows suit.

After a while, Steve pulls out his phone so they can look again at the crime scene photos; Danny automatically leans closer, to get a better angle.

And this is something they've done God knows how many times, sitting in Danny's car or bent over the computer table. But now Danny's acutely aware that their shoulders are pressed together, their faces just inches apart. Steve's skin is warm, his breath sweetened by the grapes Danny bought for him downstairs.

If Rachel is right, then Steve wants to get even closer to Danny. What must it be like for him, having only platonic contact...just this sharing of air and space, plus backslaps and the occasional hug? And could Danny truly give him anything else?

He realizes he's zoned out when Steve snaps his fingers and says, "Hey, Danny, stay with me here."

Danny refocuses on reality, noticing that Stan has woken up and that Rachel has come back. Charlie has been resettled in the carry cot, Stan bending over him and singing a quiet lullaby.

Over her magazine, Rachel raises a knowing eyebrow at Danny. He presses his lips together, and turns back to Steve. "Sorry – what were you saying?"

But Steve doesn't get a chance to answer, because at that moment Dr. Francis walks in.

The surgeon is smiling, and Danny's heart lightens as though a ten-ton weight has been lifted. And beside him, he feels as well as hears Steve's sudden sharp sigh, like a surge of relief has knocked the air out of him.

Danny hurries to Rachel's side so the surgeon can address them both. Stan takes one of her hands; Danny grips the other.

"The procedure went very well – absolutely textbook, with no complications," Dr. Francis says. "Grace is in the recovery room now. You can see her in about an hour, once she's come around from the anesthesia, but she'll still be very groggy."

"Thank you, Dr. Francis," Rachel says, voice choked with emotion.

"Thanks, doc," Danny adds, shaking the young surgeon's hand and silently apologizing for doubting his skill.

With another tired smile, Dr. Francis leaves the waiting room. Rachel, who's been so strong all night, starts to cry; she presses her face against Stan's chest to muffle the sobs, for Charlie's sake. Danny rests one hand on her shuddering back for a few seconds, and then turns away.

Steve is standing across the room, eyes suspiciously bright as he looks at Danny.

"Let's go for a walk," Danny tells him. "I could do with some air."

Rachel doesn't look up as they leave, but Stan gives them a quick half-smile before resting his cheek on her hair. Danny feels glad that she has somebody right now, even if it can't be him.

* * *

><p>Danny and Steve take the elevator down to the first floor, and go out to a secluded garden between two buildings. Danny found it when Stan was a patient here; he used to come by the hospital, and take Grace and Charlie outside for a while to give Rachel time alone with her husband.<p>

He leads Steve over to the Japanese-style pond, where large goldfish are visible even this late at night. It's 1.30am and the sky is clear, but the hospital campus is too brightly-lit for Danny to see the stars.

They sit on a park bench in silence for a while, watching the fish move in lazy circles. Danny thinks of a dozen ways to start a conversation, and discards them all. He's never had trouble talking to Steve, before; hell, Steve has more than once offered him money to shut up.

The quiet must be getting to Steve, because after a few minutes he says, "Danny, what's wrong? Beyond the obvious, I mean," he adds, waving one hand at the building where Grace is lying, pumped full of drugs and with a stitched-up hole in her belly.

Danny hadn't planned on talking about this, not until he's had the time and space to really process the possibility. But he finds himself replying, "It's just something Rachel said earlier, about you."

Steve drops his hand back to his lap, face unreadable. "Yeah?"

"She thinks you have an unusual degree of empathy for me," Danny says, deciding to start small and see how Steve reacts. If Rachel has this whole thing wrong, it'd be better to find out before making a total fool of himself.

"Well, you're my partner and my best friend too," Steve says, after a moment. "I care about what happens to you, and I don't like to see you hurting."

Danny believes the words, without question. Still, he thinks Steve's tone sounds _off_ – too careful, somehow.

"Yeah; right back atcha, babe," he says. "But earlier, when the doctor gave us the good news, you seemed almost as relieved as I felt. Was that just for Gracie's sake, or for mine too?"

Steve shrugs, not meeting Danny's gaze. "Both, I guess. Grace is everything to you, and she matters a lot to me as well."

Maybe Danny should drop this, should back off. But if he's been blind to some important things until tonight, well, he's sure as hell paying attention now. And this current awkwardness of Steve's is only partly because he views discussing emotions the way Danny views going to the dentist. There's something underneath the discomfort and hesitance, something Steve is trying to hide.

Goddamn...it looks like Rachel was right.

So Danny says, "I was thinking about what your mom told you – how loving a person means sharing their pain. She was talking about parents and kids, but it applies between adults too."

When Steve says nothing, he goes on.

"But there's a flipside to that, yeah? When someone you care about is happy, it should make you feel good. So how do you feel when I'm happy, Steve?"

Steve turns to face him, frowning. "Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"Because Rachel put an idea in my head, about you and me," Danny says bluntly, "and I'm trying to figure things out. This seems like the least painful way. But if you don't want to talk about it, just say so and I'll drop it."

There's a long silence as Steve simply stares at him, and Danny fears that he's fucked everything up.

He should've waited to have this conversation until he wasn't sleep-deprived and stressed as hell. Why can't he ever learn to leave things well alone, and not keep pushing? It's a useful trait on the job, sure, but pretty destructive when it comes to personal relationships.

Eventually, though, Steve answers the question in a low voice. "How I feel when you're happy depends on _why_ you're happy."

"Yeah? Wait, let me guess: you like it if something Hawaiian makes me smile, but not if it's something Jersey-related."

That gets a quick grin out of Steve. "Pretty much, yeah. Otherwise...well, it's always nice for me to see Grace cheer you up."

Throwing caution to the wind, Danny says, "What if I'm happy because I'm with a woman? Gabby, for instance, before that fizzled out?"

Steve ducks his head. "I don't like that so much, no."

Danny looks up at the sky, thinking about how everyone he's dated since meeting Steve has felt like an adjunct to his life. Romance has been hard to find – and hard to find time for, too, what with Steve taking up so much space in Danny's schedule.

He's always put that imbalance down to the demands of the job, and it's true that he works long and unpredictable hours. But that doesn't explain why Danny usually chooses to spend his Friday nights drinking beer on Steve's lanai, instead of hitting the singles bars or going on dates.

Maybe the person Danny should have been dating was right there, all along.

* * *

><p>Now Steve is watching him with an uneasy expression, probably misinterpreting Danny's silence. So he holds Steve's gaze, and asks his last question.<p>

"And if you're the one making me smile or laugh?"

"Then I want to do it again, as often as I can," Steve says, looking at Danny so intently that he feels touched to the core.

"Jesus, Steve," he breathes, "I had no idea. But you could have told me."

Steve gets to his feet and walks away, turning to face Danny from the edge of the pond.

"I'm not so good with words, okay...but I showed you as best I could," he says, arms outstretched. "I tried to help you fit in here, to make you want to stay. I took you to my favorite places and invited you over all the time; I even let you live with me for weeks. Hell, I did everything short of throwing myself at your feet and _begging_."

Steve drops his hands, and the fire seems to go out of him. "Eventually, I just accepted that you were straight and it was hopeless. I didn't want to ruin our friendship by laying an unwelcome burden on you, so I kept quiet. But I guess I wasn't good enough at hiding, if Rachel worked it out."

It's like the wall of a dam has given way, releasing a flood of emotion. This is more than Danny could ever have imagined hearing from Steve – on any subject, let alone Steve's attraction to him. He just sits still for a moment, stunned, letting it all wash over him.

Danny knows he has to move carefully, now, after Steve has made himself so very vulnerable.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, by being so oblivious," he says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "It never even crossed my mind that you could be gay, let alone interested in me. You had your smart, beautiful girlfriend coming into port every few months, anyway."

"We were just friends with occasional benefits; Cath is more gay than straight, too," Steve admits. "When 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' was in force, we kind of covered for each other. Now she's dating a nice woman in San Diego."

Danny tries to keep his tone neutral. "And have you been out on the town since the repeal, looking for guys?"

"Not yet," Steve says. "It's hard to break the habits of a lifetime, you know?"

Taking a deep breath, Danny says, "Yeah, tell me about it. I've known I liked girls since the third grade, when Jenny Ramirez kissed me on the way home from school. I never had wet dreams about guys; I never did any surreptitious looking around the locker room after baseball practice. So I've always thought of myself as straight, without any doubt at all. But now...now, I'm not so sure."

Steve's jaw drops, and he takes a step closer. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Danny says. "You're gonna have to be patient with me, though, because it's an identity crisis that's about an hour old. Rachel dropped this bombshell on me tonight, just before you showed up, and it's been on my mind ever since."

"Don't do this on a whim, Danny," Steve warns. "I can't be a one-off experiment for you, and then go back to just being your buddy like before."

"No, no, it's not like that," Danny says quickly. "Here's what I've been thinking. I trust you with my life, every day, and I trust you with Gracie too. You know all my secrets; you're the person I want to talk to when things are rough. I spend more time with you than with anyone else, and I voluntarily hang out at your place when I could be out looking for a girlfriend."

Danny spreads his hands. "See? It's kind of like we're going steady and I just hadn't noticed."

"Going steady?" Steve laughs a little. "What is this, high school?"

"Hey, I'm about two decades behind you when it comes to questioning my orientation. So yeah, high school terminology seems appropriate here."

Steve shakes his head. "Sorry, I just...this is totally surreal. It's almost 2am, we're both sleep-deprived, and we're beside a hospital fish pond talking about maybe starting to date each other."

"My definition of surreal has changed since I met you," Danny counters. "Nothing on that list strikes me as especially strange except the last part, and that's because you misunderstood me. My point was: we're pretty much already in a relationship, just without having sex."

"It's been a long time since I had an actual relationship," Steve says, "but I seem to remember the 'having sex' part being pretty important. Is that really something you would want, with me?"

Steve is still standing just a few feet away, so Danny has the perfect opportunity to check him out properly. Though he's always thought that his partner was unfairly good-looking, it was more envy than anything. Now he tries to look at Steve objectively, like he'd check out some beautiful woman in a singles bar.

But he _can't_. Steve's physical appearance is overlaid, in Danny's mind, with all the emotions he elicits: admiration, loyalty, exasperation, and a deep fondness that might even be love.

The body beneath all that is attractive in its own way, too...strong and supple and sculpted by hard work, similar to Danny's own and yet unfamiliar. And even the thought of touching Steve's cock is surprisingly intriguing, if Danny is honest with himself.

"I think I might want that, yeah," he finally says. "Maybe not for a while, but – the prospect of getting naked with you is not unappealing."

"That may just be the hottest thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve says, his widening grin belying the sarcasm.

* * *

><p>Steve moves to sit down on the bench again, but a sudden impulse makes Danny say, "Wait. Let me try something, here."<p>

Danny reaches out, grabbing his hand, and _tugs_ until Steve falls to his knees on the grass between Danny's parted legs.

Their faces are about level, now, and close enough for Danny to notice how long Steve's lashes are and how the grays sprinkled through his hair catch the dim light.

With Steve watching, wide-eyed, Danny lifts one hand to touch his face, tracing a path from the ridge of Steve's nose across his cheek and down the line of his jaw. The change of skin texture is interesting, from smooth to unshaven. Danny wonders if Steve's stubble might create enjoyable friction against his own skin.

"What are you doing?" Steve asks quietly.

"I'm exploring my sexuality."

"Actually, you're exploring _me_," Steve points out, breath hitching as Danny's fingertips follow the outer shell of his ear.

"Yeah, but you're the only guy I can imagine ever wanting, so it's the same thing."

Danny feels Steve shudder at his words, or maybe it's because of how Danny is stroking the side of his neck. Danny can empathize, as that area just under his ear is a major hotspot for him as well. He imagines Steve finding that sensitivity out for himself, with his fingers or his mouth, and the thought makes Danny shiver in turn.

This is the first non-platonic skin contact Danny has had in _months_. Since breaking up with Gabby, he hasn't gotten involved with anyone else. He's always been a tactile kind of person, so he's missed touching almost as much as he's missed being touched.

Now Steve is holding still and letting him touch at will, and Danny makes the most of it. He raises his other hand, too, and maps out the symmetry of Steve's face, the planes and angles and curves.

Steve sighs softly and closes his eyes – a real demonstration of trust – as Danny's fingertips feather over the fine wrinkles at the corner of each eye. Then he gives a little moan of pleasure as Danny runs his nails through the short hair at his temples. Danny's two thumbs meet and rub at the center of Steve's forehead, where a deep furrow always forms when he frowns. There's no frown now, though: Steve looks as relaxed as Danny has ever seen him.

It's like the two of them are in their own little bubble of space and time. Danny knows that they could be seen by anyone looking out any of the windows above...he knows that Rachel will contact him soon, saying Grace is awake enough to receive visitors. But mostly, Danny wants to lose himself in this incredible intimacy he's so unexpectedly found with Steve.

Danny has saved the best, most appealing part for last: Steve's mouth. Now he cups Steve's face, and slides his right thumb across his top lip and then back along his full lower one. Danny is used to the feel – and the taste – of lipstick or gloss, so Steve's rougher lips are yet another interesting difference.

Steve surprises him by flicking his tongue against the tip of Danny's thumb, and Danny feels it like a little jolt of heat. Then Steve opens his eyes and holds Danny's gaze as he licks him again, slowly and deliberately.

"Danny, _please_," he murmurs, breath warm against Danny's skin. And Danny wants to give Steve this...but he wants to take it for himself too, so he figures that makes them pretty much square.

"Yeah," Danny whispers back, closing the distance between them and kissing Steve.

He starts off chastely, gently, just pressing his mouth to Steve's once and then again. No alarm bells sound in Danny's head, and no disgust turns his stomach; he hears only the soft sounds of their lips moving, and feels only butterflies in his belly.

So he parts his lips and licks at Steve's mouth, his hands on Steve's face keeping him still. Steve doesn't resist Danny's control – he just opens for Danny and lets the kiss happen.

Danny takes his time, exploring Steve's mouth and familiarizing himself with this brave new world he's entered.

Even with his eyes shut, there's no way Danny could forget that he's kissing a guy. If the prickle of stubble didn't clue him in, breathing through his nose brings the unmistakable scent of _Steve_. After their years of working so closely together, Danny knows his partner's shampoo, his aftershave, and his laundry detergent.

Now he's learning how Steve tastes, too, and it's all more exhilarating than Danny could ever have imagined.

Steve has one hand on Danny's good knee, the other resting on his shoulder. He's trembling, whether from the strain of kneeling like this or from the impact of their kiss. Danny feels as well as hears Steve's quiet moans. And as pleasure floods his mind and body, Danny finds himself responding in kind.

Danny had asked for patience, and Steve is respecting that: he's mirroring Danny's actions with cautious enthusiasm, maintaining the intensity but not upping the ante in any way. And yet Danny finds himself wanting to push things further, to deepen the kiss and to touch more of Steve's body, too.

But this isn't the time and it isn't the place, and Danny shouldn't start anything he can't finish. So he pulls back slowly, gentling the movement of his tongue and the pressure of his lips until they're just sharing breath, skin to skin.

Danny's feeling...good. Surprised, even kind of stunned, but good. He's also half-hard, just from a fully-clothed kiss. _Jesus_, he hasn't been so turned on by something this innocent since he was a teenager.

He wants to laugh, which is really something on a night when he's been trying not to cry. But he guesses Steve might misinterpret that reaction. Instead, Danny just nods a little and says, "Yeah, okay."

Steve moves back so he can look Danny in the eye, and says, "Okay what? Did kissing me rob you of your famously expansive vocabulary?"

Somehow, Danny is glad that Steve is ribbing him. It'd suck if things got all sugary-sweet and polite between them, now.

"Maybe a little, yeah. But what I meant was: yes, I want more of this," Danny says, gesturing between them. "I want more of _you_."

"Yeah, okay," Steve echoes, smile spreading across his face. "I think that could be arranged."

Steve stands up, shaking out his long legs, and then sits down on the bench. Danny reaches out to lay a hand on his knee, wanting to maintain that physical connection, and Steve covers Danny's hand with his. And the sight of Steve's bigger, stronger hand engulfing his own...well, it prompts thoughts which make Danny's cock twitch in his pants.

Faced with all this evidence that he's not as straight as he thought, Danny asks, "How long have you known you were gay?"

"Bisexual, actually; I prefer men, but I'm attracted to women too," Steve explains. "And I guess I started to wonder in high school – wet dreams and glances around the locker room, like you said. But I knew for sure once I got to the Naval Academy. There were some very hot female midshipmen in my classes, but I mostly wanted the guys."

"Damn," Danny says. "Only thing worse would be figuring it out at seminary school."

Steve gives a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I had a thing for my roommate, sophomore year, and it turned out to be mutual. We managed to be together on the down low for a couple of years, but then he broke it off. After that, it was just casual stuff here and there, either discreetly with other servicemen or with civilians during leave."

"All those years of hiding...you weren't tempted to quit the Navy?"

"Sometimes," Steve admits. "But I decided my duty was more important than anything else. And it got easier once I met Cath. We kept each other's secrets, and we kept each other company, too."

"I'm glad you had that," Danny says softly. It pains him to think how lonely and anxious Steve must have been, never able to relax when he was with a guy.

"Cath suggested I come out to you, long ago, and maybe I should have. I just didn't want to risk you asking too many questions and finding out how I felt about you."

"Asking too many questions? That doesn't sound like me at all," Danny says, deadpan, and Steve just grins at him.

* * *

><p>Danny's phone rings, then, over-loud in the quiet garden.<p>

"We can visit Grace now," Rachel tells him. "She's been moved to the children's ward on the fifth floor."

"Great; we're on our way."

Danny hangs up and gets to his feet. "Grace time," he informs Steve.

They find Stan and Rachel at the pediatrics reception desk, where the duty nurse – a hard-faced woman in her 50s – is shaking her head.

"You can't bring your baby onto the ward," Nurse Michaels says sternly. "We need to keep our post-op patients as sterile as possible."

Rachel turns to Danny, biting her lip. "Could you watch Charlie while Stan and I go in for a bit?"

Though Danny's instinctive reaction is that _he _should visit Grace before Step-Stan does, he's not petty enough to say so under the circumstances.

"Sure," Danny replies. He takes Charlie from Rachel's arms and settles down on the sofa with him, making soothing noises as the sleeping boy's eyelids flutter and his mouth twists ominously. Danny hopes Rachel gets back before Charlie resurfaces in wailing mode.

Steve sits next to Danny, their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle, and Danny leans into his warm strength.

"He's gotten so big," Steve murmurs.

"Yeah, he's growing like a weed – maybe he inherited Stan's height genes." The bitter disappointment of Charlie not being his son has faded, with time, but Danny can't help being wistful.

When Steve continues to just stare at Charlie, Danny says, "You been around babies much?"

"Not really. Most of my SEAL team hadn't settled down with anyone; the job makes that pretty tough. And I've met up with a few old friends since coming home, but their kids are mostly school age."

When Rachel returns, a few minutes later, she's smiling through her unshed tears.

"Grace is doing fine," she reports. "Very drowsy, still, so we can't visit her for long."

"Why don't you guys head home?" Danny suggests. "I'll stay here overnight, and you could come back in the morning."

Rachel looks torn, but Stan puts his hands on her shoulders. "Charlie would get more sleep at home, and so would you. And you'd be better company for Grace tomorrow after a few hours' rest."

"I am very tired," she admits. "All right – thank you, Danny."

For the first time, Rachel seems to notice how close he and Steve are sitting together. She tilts her head and raises her brows at Danny, and he nods slightly.

Her eyes widen, but she has no time for any further response: Charlie wakes up, as predicted, and starts to cry. Rachel takes him from Danny and begins walking around the waiting area to comfort him, while Stan gathers their stuff together.

When Danny stands up, Steve just leans forward to pick up a magazine. "You don't want to come see Gracie?" Danny asks.

Steve looks surprised. "Can I?"

"Of course," Danny says.

But at the reception desk, the duty nurse says, "Family members only at this time. What is your relationship to the patient?"

"I'm Danny Williams, Grace's father." Nurse Michaels glances at Steve; before she can ask, Danny adds, "This is my partner, Steve."

She just presses her lips together in apparent disapproval. And only ten minutes after his first gay kiss, Danny realizes he's getting his first personal taste of homophobia as a chaser.

Despite his disbelief, Danny's gearing up for a fight...and then Rachel moves to his side. "Kindly let them through, ma'am," she says, words polite but tone steely. "I assure you, Steve is family."

Though Nurse Michaels looks unimpressed, she gestures to the swing doors behind her and says, "Miss Williams is in Room 516."

"Thanks, Rach," Danny says, and Steve gives her a grateful smile.

Rachel leans in to kiss Danny's cheek, and then stands on tiptoe to do the same to Steve. "Goodnight," she says.

Danny takes Steve's hand, with a pointed look at the watching nurse, and they head down the corridor to Grace's private room. Her eyes are closed, but she stirs as Danny opens the door.

"Hey, monkey," he calls softly, and the sight of her small answering smile immediately eases his heart.

"Hi, Danno; hi, Uncle Steve," Grace says, her voice scratchy.

"How are you feeling?" Danny asks, as they approach her bedside.

"Tired."

Danny kisses her forehead, both cheeks, and the tip of her nose. "Yeah, I bet. But you were real brave tonight, baby – I'm so proud of you."

"Am I gonna have a scar?"

"Only very little ones." Dr. Francis had explained that to Danny and Rachel as a major advantage of keyhole surgery.

"Cool," Grace says, and yawns widely.

"We'll let you get some sleep, now," Danny tells her, "but I'm gonna stay here at the hospital tonight. So I'll see you when you wake up, and Mommy will come back in the morning."

"I'll try to visit tomorrow as well, sweetheart," Steve adds. He strokes a lock of hair back off Grace's forehead, and she turns her face into his delicate touch.

And Danny already knew Steve was incredibly important to him...he already knew that his daughter liked and trusted Steve, too. But seeing the two of them together now makes something _click _in Danny's head.

Steve may not be a legal part of the family, the way Stan is, but his life is intertwined with Danny's and Grace's all the same. And Danny only wants to deepen that connection, from here on out.

It's been a night for revelations, all right. Danny's weighed down by exhaustion, and yet he feels buoyed up by this unexpected surge of positive emotions: gratitude, wonder, and hope.

"Danno loves you, Gracie, now and always," he says, squeezing her hand.

"Love you too, Danno," she mumbles, closing her eyes.

Danny and Steve creep out of Grace's room and stand in the empty corridor, facing each other. There's no sound except the beeping of medical equipment from nearby rooms. Steve opens his mouth and shuts it again, looking uncertain.

"Go home," Danny says firmly, "and get some sleep. You need to be on your A-game for the Kalili case, what with the Governor and the media all over you. And you'll have to manage without me, at least during the morning."

"Speaking as your boss, you should take the whole day off," Steve replies, equally insistent. Danny nods, relieved that he won't have to feel torn between his two competing duties.

Moving slowly and signaling his intent, Steve steps closer, lowers his head, and kisses Danny. It's the first time he's taken the initiative...and though he keeps the kiss gentle, it sends warm sparks of sensation traveling through Danny's body. He lays his hands on Steve's chest to steady himself, feeling the beat of Steve's heart under his palm.

With one last brush of his mouth against Danny's, Steve pulls away. "See you soon, Danno," he says.

"Yeah, okay," Danny murmurs, with what is probably a foolish-looking grin, and Steve grins back.

As Steve heads off down the thankfully still-deserted corridor, Danny leans back against the wall. He touches his lips, which are tingling from Steve's short but skillful kiss, and lets himself imagine how it would feel to be kissed by Steve for real.

_God_, Danny thinks dazedly; yeah, much more than okay. He definitely could get used to this.


End file.
